Reveille

 Well good morning, dear readers, I awoke very early this morning (4:30 a.m.) after falling asleep in my clothes during a very soothing AA meditation meeting last night. I felt great, and got myself showered first thing, like in days long ago at Culver when they awoke us (with a bugle perhaps?). Got the coffee made, and was all settled in with an intriguing playlist prepared by Google’s AI when Michael came down and disturbed all of my fun. Drats, foiled again. Regardless, I am not going to let him spoil all the fun Andy Warhol and I are planning to have with Google this morning. The dear folks at Apple are providing a little assistance, so hat tip to them for teaching me how to do a screen shot on my iPad!

OK Michael has gone back to bed so away we go!

I finished “Letter To Smith” yesterday, replete with sexual innuendo, and homage to Georgia O’Keefe, Julia Child, Jasper, Andy Warhol and Jeff Bezos—with a big bugger off to cancel culture, and my stamp of all the messiness of some of the students wandering around the well-manicured campus. I’m sure no one will understand the piece, though I fully intend to display it prominently at my art show in May. It’s actually a much “neater” piece than I intended, but I wanted to fold a little of OCD mom into the work, so she could have a little say in the commentary. I’m not necessarily angry at Smith, nor holding a grudge—what’s at issue is they refuse to pay attention to my podcast interview I did in 2020, discussing recovery from a very challenging dual diagnosis. So rather than phone them up and lodge a complaint, I just assembled this art piece, and if it finds it’s way to the Columbus dump (certainly not Jill Biden’s office), so be it.

Whoops, Michael is up again, clearly worried and concerned about some private things we discussed last night. Contrary to popular opinion, he is extremely, extremely sensitive, I have always known this about him, and he may spout off initially when he is presented with a dilemma, but he always then backs down and gives it some thought. I’m deeply concerned about him, I know he is troubled right now, and I know we will be facing some difficult personal decisions in the future. He may want to flee Columbus to avoid doing things, but I’m not going to let him—we are staying here, and going to tackle things one step at a time, with me turning things over to my Higher Power (except where solid action on my part is required). 

I think Michael is scrolling Twitter(?) right now, and God help him, I certainly don’t think that place has any good answers for him. Maybe he’s worried about money again, I don’t know, all he does is tell me to stay off Amazon, and that’s fine, I’m on my own analysis of Amazon’s logo, not what’s on their shopping site (at least today, I don’t think?). Dear Michael, another Lost Boy, what’s going through your head right now? I’m trying to look over at his iPad to see what he’s reading but I don’t want to pry and be obvious about my sleuthing…perhaps I just stick with my own iPad and my dance with YouTube and the ads which the programmers have selected for me, which are absolutely boring and lack creativity, really a shoddy job, if you ask me. If I were YouTube, I’d fire the ad staff and bring in some new blood, maybe hire some Gen Xers who didn’t serve in the military, rather bailed out from corporate culture and are now living off the grid in Idaho. 

Well the sun is now rising, Michael is pacing, everyone is tense, Legs is throwing up outside. I’m going worse case scenario that Apple stock is in the toilet, the futures market has tanked, Michael is secretly going to try and take a second mortgage on the house out, we are going to end up in subsidized housing, it’s the End Of The World, catch me now I’m falling, and let me give thanks to the nuns at The Villas for wrecking our serenity. Maybe someone put a pox on this place, but I thought I got rid of that when I got “Cassandra Calling” out of the basement and chucked it in the trash outside. Here comes another day of chaos, but I’m remembering sponsor Shawn said last night when you are in the pit, just get on your knees and say a prayer, so here goes:

Dear God, give me strength to navigate through minefields. Help me find a safe spot to sit and rest and take off my helmet and breathe. Help me to let go of painful things in my past and let go of trying to orchestrate outcomes. Dearest God, please take over and deliver things where they are meant to go. Help me to stay rooted in one day at a time and thy will, not mine be done. I struggle with this God, and it’s preventing me from doing the Steps. Dear God, please work through Shawn today, and help me to listen to what he tells me about getting out of the pit (with John McCain). Dear God give me the strength to do my moral inventory, both on paper and in my art, guide my hands, help me to ease my troubled spirit. 

***

I will let Michael solve his problems. I will always listen, but I will move forward and work on my problems—mostly spiritual and intellectual—and get rid of stupid diets and eat sensibly and work on myself. I see Shawn at 1:45 p.m. today, and we can talk openly and honestly about why I am clinging to self-will and not turning things over to the care of God. What this means is we have to do a reading of Step Three again, so I shall bring my ”12 and 12” where I have underlined and circled the most important parts. I’m trying, I’m not giving up, even though it appears everyone around me is playing games (or in the gaming business). Oh, it’s all fun, to a point—except when John McCain gets involved and gives a big thumb down to everyone in the room.

I see out my window the sun is shining and the “No Parking” sign is obscured, so I guess it’s all systems GO today. Michael is back to bed, whether he’s tossing and turning is his business, whether he talks to the strict nuns is his business, whether I troll the alleys and City dump is my business. I am kind, I am compassionate, I am open, I am willing. I’m still working on the honesty piece (aren’t we all), but my art is honest, so there’s no problem there. It’s a beautiful day, I’m clean, I’ll be taking the hounds for their walk and getting some exercise. I just gave Legs his pain pill so we will let that settle in and perhaps he can go for a longer walk today. We shall see. So I bid you adieu, Trust In Your Decisions, Don’t Die In Darkness, and all that advertising stuff. Signing off, me and Andy, off to some warehouse in Columbus. Later friends.